


If You'll Be Waiting

by Melodious329



Category: Angel: the Series RPF, Kane (Band), Leverage RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Period-Typical Sexism, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1249960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodious329/pseuds/Melodious329
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christian finds himself in an arranged marriage to another man, Jeffrey Dean Morgan.  Neither man is happy with the arrangement, but perhaps they will find a common ground.  Basically a lot of sex with every trope that I could shove in here, lol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You'll Be Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this features rough sex and non-consensual sex. The second part contains fluff and baby :)

Christian stands alone in a large bedchamber, dressed only in a new white sleeping shirt, his long hair loose and curling around his shoulders.  He stares into the fire and contemplates the combination of luck and fate that have brought him to this wretched moment.  

It was luck that made him thus, a rare male omega, capable of bearing children.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, though.  His parents treated him as a normal boy.  They encouraged him to ride and hunt and learn, though perhaps he felt too compelled to cover his weaknesses with bravado, machismo.  His condition was kept a secret, until…until fate took his sister away. 

His sister was sweetness itself.  This was meant to be her marriage, her wedding bed.  It was a sudden accident that took her and his family was lucky that the Morgans accepted Christian in her place.  The Kanes needed this marriage, needed access to the trading that this marriage would give them.  Still Christian mourns her, mourns his sudden change in circumstances.

The door is suddenly thrown open and Christian can’t help flinching, before turning around slowly, not wanting to give offense.  His new husband, Jeffrey, is older, with grey hairs coming in his beard and dark mop of short hair.  The man is still powerfully built, still handsome, but Christian has never before thought to take a man as a lover. 

It’s not only Jeffrey who enters.  Two other men of the Morgan family accompany him, standing behind him as the door closes. 

With a sharp flick of his chin, Jeffrey orders, “Remove your nightshirt.”

Christian flicks his eyes over the observers who are staring at him with undisguised interest.  He knows that he’s an oddity.  Now he won’t be able to avoid the staring, the whispering, the curiosity and false myths about his kind.  Still he has no choice but to do as he’s told.  He keeps repeating to himself how much his family needs this, needs him to just do his duty. 

Feeling incredibly vulnerable, he strips off the nightshirt, standing in front of the three strangers completely bare. 

“Lie on the bed,” Jeffrey dismisses him without even looking unlike his companions. 

Christian goes with gritted teeth.  Ripping back the bedclothes, he lies on his belly with his arms above his head.  He can’t quite make himself spread his legs, can’t put himself so much on display so he lies with legs only barely parted. 

Jeffrey takes his time getting undressed, murmuring to his colleagues as if Christian isn’t even there, as if Christian isn’t even a person, just an object to be used at the older man’s whims.  But that is now the truth.  He is no longer a man who is able to make his own decision.  He now belongs to Jeffery, his spouse. 

“I don’t even know how to tell if he’s a virgin,” Jeffrey’s voice is a low smoky rumble, but the words aren’t for Christian’s ears. 

The other men chuckle in response, and Christian grimaces at the reminder of their audience.  He doesn’t know whether to be pleased or troubled that Jeffrey is as inexperienced with men as he himself. 

The man’s weight suddenly tips the bed and he fights not to tense.  He doesn’t want to seem unwilling and his pride doesn’t want to seem afraid.  Jeffrey’s hands are rough and warm on his cool skin and Christian can’t suppress the shiver that vibrates down his spine.  But the touch is detached, it has none of the heat with which Christian has ever touched a woman.  The hand sweeps his hair aside so it can settle heavy on the back of his neck, pressing him into the mattress, restraining him though he does not struggle. 

Christian grits his teeth as the other hand delves between his cheeks.  For his own benefit, he spreads his thighs even as the finger is pressing inside, dry and painful.  It burns as it digs in further, feeling right in the center of him. 

“Damn,” Jeffrey intones above him.  “Nothing like a woman.”

He spits and Christian flinches, shamed by the action.  The finger is removed though, and it’s wet when it reenters.  It helps, but not much.  When a second finger is added, the stretch burns worse.  He feels too full already, stretched too tight.  But he knows the fingers aren’t the worst part. 

Jeffrey’s knees force his apart and then there’s a huge blunt pressure at his entrance.  Christian can’t help the way he scrabbles to get away when it presses in, burning too much.  It’s like a punch right in the center of him and suddenly he can’t breathe.  Bending his knees underneath him, he can’t help trying to push himself away, but he’s held tight. 

The cock only presses in deeper, splitting him and he makes a choking noise unable to stop the sound.  His hands are his only outlet and he claws at the sheets.  And then Jeffrey starts moving in earnest.  It’s a burning column that stings with every thrust, punching inside like an anvil. 

He feels trapped, suddenly small like he’s never felt underneath the larger man’s weight.  Held down and used like a woman, the shame of it, the utter humiliation runs hot through his body, as hot as the pain.  He feels cold everywhere but in his pelvis.   

Finally Jeffrey stills above him, his dick so deep that Christian can’t help but let out a little cry again.  Then he’s hissing when the cock is pulling out, the sting like salt on a wound except it’s deep inside the center of him. 

The weight finally releases him, but he’s stopped fighting.  He lies there discarded as the other man leaves the bed.  Idly, he wonders whether they’re staring at him, whether the observers are looking at the wetness he can feel back there to make certain that the union has been cemented. 

The door closing is unexpected, leaving him alone.  He can’t make himself move though, not even to cover himself.  Eventually he reaches a hand back, prods at his soreness, now wet and slick. 

***

The next morning, Christian is still sore as he rises and washes.  He forces himself not to limp as he meets his parents in the courtyard to see them off.  Jeffrey is by his side, holding his hand tight as he waves at their departing carriage. 

But as soon as his parents’ carriage is gone, Jeffrey releases him and turns away towards the stables.  “I am going hunting and will be back for dinner.”

Christian nods, knowing that Jeffrey is only telling him to be courteous.  He doesn’t know what to do with the rest of his time, though.  His sister used to complain about having to learn needlepoint and the piano, but Christian doesn’t know either of those things.  Frustrated, Christian sulks around his new home, memorizing the layout before he decides to go for a ride himself.  He’s still sore between his legs, but it’s worth it to be on a horse, to feel the wind, to feel free again.   

He feels refreshed when returns home.  With a smile he slides off the saddle and gives the reins to the groomer when he sees his husband storming up to him in his peripheral vision. 

“Where have you been?” Jeffrey yells at him. 

“Out for a ride,” Christian snaps back.  “I’m not your servant.”

“No, you’re my spouse.  And I expect you to be here waiting when I get home, not run after you like a child,” Jeffrey shouts, firmly gripping Christian’s bicep and shoving him towards the house.  “Now go clean up so you don’t hold up dinner.”

Christian bites his lip and goes where he’s shoved.  He knows that it is Jeffrey’s place to make the rules, but it doesn’t stop him from being sullen and silent all through dinner.  Not that the older man tries to talk to him.  What could they talk about?  It’s obvious Jeffrey doesn’t consider him a companion, but treats him as a woman who wouldn’t know anything about hunting. 

But by the time, he’s undressing for bed, he can’t control his rising anger.  He has his back turned to the door when Jeffrey comes in, still putting away his clothes from the day.  In the mirror, he can see the older man already unfastening his vest.

“From now on,” Jeffrey says without even looking at Christian, “be undressed and in bed by the time I come in.”

“I’m not a woman,” Christian snarls as he whirls around. 

He’s not expecting the hard slap to his cheek that whips his head to the side.  He’s still stunned when a hard hand is fisting in his long hair. 

“No, you’re not,” Jeffrey growls. 

Christian is thrown face first onto the bed and then his shirt is ripped down the back, exposing him.  The hand is scrabbling in his long hair again, yanking his head back.  He barely has time to register anything else when Jeffery’s hard length is pressing inside his still sore hole. 

He can’t hold back his cries tonight.  He’s on his hands and knees, held there by the sure grip in his hair and his body is rocked with the force of each thrust.  It feels like a knife within him, his skin sliced off when already sore. 

Jeffrey yanks his head back so far when he comes that Christian can’t even breathe.  When he’s released.  Christian can only drop limply into the mattress like a discarded sack as his husband walks away. 

**********

The show of violence doesn’t prevent Christian from continuing to act out, even knowing that he can’t defend himself from his husband.  Soon, Christian doesn’t know who he’s punishing with his behavior, Jeffrey or himself.    

At each show of defiance, Jeffrey only gets angrier and more violent as he tries to force Christian to submit to his will.  Gone is the indifference of their wedding night.  They both seemingly grieve for the life that they should have had. 

The next day, Christian stomps outside.  He can see the female house servants giving him a wide berth, scared of him or scared of being there when he is inevitably punished, he can’t tell.  Jeffrey himself also seems to spend his time anywhere but with him during the day.  He doesn’t dare push the boundaries too far.  He ends up in the stables, not riding, just brushing the horses and feeding them apples that the stable boy, David gives him. 

He doesn’t change for dinner, arriving in his riding pants and with his hair still pulled back in a ponytail as he comes to the table after his husband has already sat down.  Jeffrey barely lets him sit down before he lights into the younger man. 

“You will not eat if you are not dressed and on time,” Jeffrey says coldly. 

Christian quickly stands back up.  “Fine,” he shouts, slamming his chair.  “I don’t want to eat anyway.”

Jeffrey is up and charging towards him like a shot.  Christian has never been one to scare easy, but he sucks in a startled breath as the other man towers over him and one huge hand grips his throat.  But that air leaves him in a rush as Jeffery slams him back into the wall. 

Pitching his voice low and authoritative, Jeffrey commands, “From now on, you will be dressed and seated at the table when I arrive for dinner.  You will not be late and you will not question me.”

Christian’s hands automatically scrabble at the implacable grip holding him.  “What if I don’t?” he can’t help retorting. 

There’s fire in Jeffrey’s dark eyes as he slams Christian’s head back hard against the wall.  Stars explode behind Christian’s dark eyelids, and he feels himself start to fall as his legs wilt.  Standing isn’t a problem though as he is dragged, stumbling and dizzy until he’s thrown against a soft mattress, what he assumes is his bed. 

Christian tries to sit up, tries to look around, but he’s so dizzy that all he manages is to fall over onto his side.  Jeffrey’s large hands push him back over onto his stomach and spreads his legs wide, too wide.  He groans in pain, feeling like he might pass out. 

His weakened state doesn’t faze Jeffrey though who simply continues to arrange his limp body and drags off his clothes.  By the time his legs are free of his pants, he’s recovered enough to kick out.  His aim is wild, but his heel does strike a glancing blow off of Jeffrey’s knee.  Unfortunately, it only gets his arms wrenched behind his back.  Jeffrey transfers his wrists to one hand and then leans his full weight on top of Christian to keep him down. 

Knowing it’s futile, Christian struggles anyway.  He can’t stop it, but he doesn’t want to take it lying down.  When Jeffrey finally penetrates him, he even shouts out, not caring at all for his pride and only wanting to let loose his frustration and anger. 

Jeffrey growls back, thrusting harder, hard enough to that Christian’s shout becomes a high-pitched squeal of actual pain.  His head feels full of rocks banging around as he tries bucking once more against Jeffrey’s weight just for show before falling limp and letting the other man use him. 

Freezing above him, Jeffrey pulls away immediately, but slaps Christian’s ass to make sure that the younger man is still awake.  “You are my spouse,” Jeffrey says still breathless.  “You will behave as such,” he finishes, jostling the bed once before he turns to go. 

For the next few days, Christian barely says a word to the other man, though he technically follows all the rules.  He’s dressed at dinner time though he doesn’t just to spite the other man.  He undresses afterward in his room, but won’t get on the bed until Jeffrey forces him, shoving his nightshirt up his thighs.  Christian throws a few elbows and bucks against the other man, but he’s too afraid to actually hit the other man.  His family can’t lose this connection and Jeffrey would be within his rights to kill him for any real injury. 

But the situation quickly spirals out of control.  This time it isn’t even really Christian’s fault.  He’s been spending a lot of time in the stables, and yes, that was meant to piss Jeffrey off, but even if he can’t ride, he likes to at least be near the horses.  Besides, he’s clean by dinnertime. 

“Hand me that brush, please,” he asks the stableboy. 

David is quick to hand it to him, and Christian can’t help but notice the way that the taller man lingers.  Ignoring it, Christian turns back towards the horse, feeling self-conscious as he bends over a little to pick up the brush. 

“Oh, let me get it,” David interrupts. 

Christian smiles and stands up straight, taking the brush that the other man hands him and moving away to start on the animal’s flank.  David lingers though, making him uncomfortable as he pets the horse’s nose. 

The stable barn door suddenly banging open, startles them both.  When Jeffrey charges in this time, it’s not to yell at him for not being dressed for dinner or other small infraction.  Jeffrey isn’t even focused on him, simply throws Christian to the floor, out of the way as he advances on the stable boy. 

“Step aside, whore!” Jeffrey yells, only glancing back at Christian once he’s finished.  “You’ve been adulterous with this stable boy!”

“What?!” Christian snaps, confusion turning to horror.  He scrambles to his knees.  “No, no!  I haven’t.  I’ve barely spoken to him.”

In desperation, he snatches at Jeffrey’s ankles in an effort to stop the man from advancing on the servant.  It’s too late though.  Two other men with Jeffrey are already grabbing the errant stable boy.  Arms gripped by two other men, David seems too scared to speak and defend himself.

“You have visited him every day,” Jeffrey growls.  “I saw you speaking with him!  This behavior is completely inappropriate and you shall both be punished.”

“No, it was…it was just me,” Christian says, swallowing his own fear.  “Punish me.  And let him go.”

His words seem to actually register to Jeffrey who suddenly looks down at where Christian is still on the ground.  “You would take his punishment?”

“Yes, just…let him go.  Send him away,” Christian pleads.  He knows that the punishment for the stable boy will be death, probably whipped to death.  He doubts that Jeffrey would kill his spouse when there is no proof of indiscretion. 

Jeffrey looks at him intently, though Christian is unable to decipher the older man’s emotion.  Just as suddenly Jeffrey comes to a decision and turns back to the two servants.  “Let him go.  Make sure he is never seen here again or it will be his death.”

They follow the order exactly, pushing David out the door and giving him a kick for good measure.  Jeffrey leans down casually and gets a good grip on the long hair to drag Christian across the dirt floor.  He’s dropped between two of the stalls and Christian knows what’s coming. 

Fear has frozen him by the time that the two servants come back, this time for him.  He doesn’t struggle when they seize his wrists, too busy trying to control the fear that’s making him hyperventilate, makes his heart pound like it’s trying to escape.  They pull him to his feet and then bind each of his wrists to a wooden column, stretching him out between them.  But other than that, they don’t touch him. 

Touching him is for Jeffrey, whose breath stirs his hair as a knife is taken to his shirt, white linen falling off of him and onto the ground as Christian desperately tries not to tremble.  Then the rough feel of Jeffrey’s hand sweeping his ponytail off to the side.

Christian flinches as something wraps around his neck, and for a moment, he’s certain that Jeffery will kill him, rid himself of his unsuitable spouse.  But then Jeffrey moves in front of him, securing something leather around Christian’s throat.  Slowly, Jeffrey runs his finger around the edges of the collar. 

“If you are going to act like an animal,” Jeffrey says in a low rumble.  “Then I will treat you like an animal to be tamed.”

Christian’s own breath is so loud in the silence that he can’t hear what’s happening.  He hears nothing but the sound of Jeffery’s boots, quiet on the dirt and then…

*Whooosh*

*Crack*

It takes a moment for the pain to set in and then Christian can’t stifle the cry that issues from his mouth.  It feels like he’s on fire, been stabbed with a hot poker right through the chest and his muscles seize so that he can’t breathe at all. 

He hasn’t managed another breath when the second strike hits him and he’s arching away like a beaten animal.  He screams and suddenly he’s hyperventilating and he feels still like he’s being suffocated.  Everything’s on fire. 

He doesn’t know how many strikes come after that or what sounds he makes.  At first, he’s writhing desperate to get away though his bounds hold him tight.  By the end, though, he’s sagging in his bonds, his weight hanging from his shoulders, strangled sounds falling continuously from his lips.  And then it just stops. 

Whimpering, his wrists are untied and then he’s dragged over to the table in the stable, pressed down to lay his naked sweat soaked chest over it.  His back heaves with his attempts to actually breathe, but each breath is a fire all over his skin.  He’s still trying to breathe when he feels hands taking off his pants. 

He tries to get up, to see what’s going on, to get away.  He can’t take anymore, and he tries to say that but he doubts that his words are intelligible.  Giving up his attempts to move away, he simply thrashes weakly and moans.  Jeffrey’s hand lands on the table near his face and Christian flinches. The other hand is stroking the curve of his ass and Christian can’t tell if it’s meant to be soothing or not.  He’s in too much pain to calm down though. 

He tenses hard when Jeffrey tries to press into his body, but the other man actually stops and waits for his exhausted muscles to relax and let him in.  He’s making pathetic sobbing noises as Jeffrey fucks him, not cruelly but relentlessly, pushing in deep but not hard enough to push Christian across the table.  He’s crying and sniffling by the time that Jeffrey finishes and pulls away.  Immediately, his wrists are recaptured by the two servants and he’s pulled up. 

He can barely stand, barely see through tears as his hands are bound again in front of him.  But he hears Jeffrey’s voice, still cold and soft.  “Hang him from the ceiling for the night.”

The words have barely registered when his arms are pulled up and he cries out sharply.  Fortunately, he can still stand, can still rest most of his weight on his feet, but the stretch on his back is excruciating.  He flinches away when there’s a touch to his face, but Jeffrey’s possessive grip is firm as he strokes away the tears.  Christian knows that he looks a mess and can’t bring himself to look at the expression on his husband’s face. 

“Shh,” Jeffrey soothes him.  “You are mine, Christian, my spouse.  You belong to me and will obey me.”

Christian sobs a little, though he can’t tell if it’s from relief or fear.  He can only slump more in his bonds, trying to get his lips working enough to agree or apologize or something.  He knows that his behavior with the servant was inappropriate, too familiar.  He wanted to push Jeffrey, but he never wanted to actually shame himself and his family by betraying his spouse with a servant. 

“I will send in the midwife to make you more comfortable,” the older man says, voice still soft but now more firm.  “But I had to teach you a lesson.”

Christian jerks his face away then, tears leaking down his face again.  He hangs his head, Jeffrey’s small kindness to him affecting him almost harder than his punishment.  Staying still, he tries to get himself back under control until he feels another touch on his face.  This time he looks up into the face of the local midwife.  She’s a tall, thin older woman.  He’s the only male omega that she has seen, but he can’t have a male physician. 

She nods when she sees that he’s awake and then moves around him to his back.  Long careful fingers apply a salve that initially burns but starts numbing before she’s even finished.  All of the marks seem to be concentrated on his shoulders and upper back.  Christian knows enough to know that it must have been on purpose so as not to cause him permanent damage.  Relaxing, Christian is hanging limp, hanging on the edge of consciousness by the time that she’s finished. 

“Drink this,” she instructs him, pressing a wooden cup against his lips. 

He drinks it down readily, knowing that it will finish the job of numbing him.  Soon the pain on his back only exists on the edge of his consciousness.  It’ll be back tomorrow, but at the moment, his main problem is the ache in his shoulders and getting some sleep. 

He doesn’t know how long he hangs there, drifting in and out of consciousness.  It’s dark outside, but he blinks and comes awake when there’s a light on the edge of his vision.  David is there, coming in with a torch that he places in the holder by the door. 

“What’re ya doin’ere?” Christian slurs, fretfully.  “If he catches you…”

“He won’t, not tonight,” David smirks, looking gleeful.  His hands are on Christian’s face before Christian’s slowed reflexes can react, thumbs caressing Christian’s cheekbones, fingers on the dog collar.  “Oh, c’mon.  You’ve already been punished for it, might as well commit the sin.”

Christian stares back confused until David ducks down, trying to kiss him.  Christian manages to turn his face away in avoidance just in time, swaying in his chains.  He’s never kissed another man before. 

“I’ve heard you in that house with him.  He doesn’t know what to do with a man in his bed,” David teases, his mouth close enough that his hot breath is fanning out over Christian’s cheekbone.  Christian doesn’t admit that he himself is just as ignorant. 

Distracted, Christian can’t pull away before David’s lips are on his, David’s tongue pushing inside, filling up his mouth and not letting him get away.  It feels like he can’t breathe until David pulls away and lets him. 

“Stop,” Christian says again, more sternly as he tries to find his balance on his feet to push away.  “I wasn’t flirting with you.  I don’t want you.”

David laughs, but it doesn’t sound like humor.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll make it good for you,” David assures him, already breathless before he’s leaning in toward Christian again. 

Christian lets his head fall back this time to avoid the kiss, but it does him no good.  David’s got a hard grip on the back of his neck and is keeping him still while David’s mouth moves down to his throat, mouthing over the straining tendon down to his collar. 

“Stop that,” David chides, but he sounds almost amused by Christian’s struggles.  Christian’s not at all expecting the servant to then pinch and twist his nipple in retaliation. 

Christian gasps in shock and pain, but somehow the sharp pain goes straight to his dick and it rises, halfhard, flopping against his thigh.  Horrified, he tries to twist his hips away.  He doesn’t want this.  He doesn’t look at guys and he doesn’t cheat on his spouse even if his spouse is Jeffrey.  But calling for help would only expose him, confirm his unfaithfulness and both of their lives would be over.

“Like that?” David asks, pinching the other now as well and Christian can’t help the tiny noise that escapes him.  “He never touches you, does he?  Doesn’t play with these perky tits?”

Christian flushes with shame, shame that he’s in this position where he can’t protect himself, shame at being used like a woman by his husband and now this servant, against his will.  He must have done something.  Jeffrey must be right that he did something to lead David on, to cause this somehow. 

David doesn’t make him answer as he dips his head and takes a nipple into his mouth.  Unable to ignore how good it feels, Christian’s hips jerk once as David bites over the sensitive nub.  But David persists, biting and gnawing until Christian is pulling his chest back, biting his lip in actual pain. 

The servant is still gnawing when he reaches a hand down and fists Christian’s cock which had deflated some from the pain.  Somehow it gets hard again easily, maybe because it hasn’t seen any attention except from Christian’s hand since the wedding and only rarely even that. 

He grits his teeth as David pulls off his sore nipple and croons, “So desperate, aren’t you?  Aching for me.”

The humiliation is choking him because it’s true and all he can do is twist in his bonds, pain lighting up in his back and shoulders then.  It doesn’t stop David though.  His fingers walk back from Christian’s balls to the edge of his already sore hole.  Christian twists again, desperate to stop the man. 

“He left you wet and open for me,” David whispers, the words hot as they whisper out across Christian’s cheek. 

Christian wants to throw up as David walks behind him, fingers still playing over the sore ridges of his asshole.  He cries out when two fingers are shoved inside him, though there’s cum smoothing the way.  Turning his head, he bites at his own bicep trying to keep in any other sounds, not wanting anyone to come out here and see his humiliation. 

He’s so sore already that even one finger causes pain to light up his spine.  But just as he’s resigned to it, the fingers touch something else and he’s jerking away involuntarily this time. 

“Oh god,” he whispers brokenly but neither God nor David take mercy on him as the fingers stroke deliberately over that spot again. 

The pleasure is white hot, a pressure that spreads through his lower body, zinging across his nerves.  He shivers, not wanting it, not wanting the desperate need that rises up in him, not from this man who’s taking what he doesn’t want to give. 

But the pleasure doesn’t stop.  It continues far past the point of pleasure, he wants it to stop, anything, but he feels aflame again, driving out all other thoughts and he’s begging before he even knows it. 

“Please, please, please.  _Please_ ,” Christian’s babbling and a tear begins to roll down his face again.    “I can’t, I can’t…ungh.”

“Please what?” David says smugly, but, at first, the words don’t sink into Christian’s brain.  “Please _what_?”

“Please!” Christian cries out, his whole body trembling.  “Lemme cum.  Put it in me.  Put it in me and finish it.”

David’s fingers pull out, but Christian’s whole body is sensitive and his dick is so hard it hurts and then he’s being breached again.  The burn of the stretch settles him, grounds him away from that confusingly pleasurable sensation.  He wants to just hang there limply until David finishes, but David manages to angle his dick to press that spot again.  Being this full, makes it different and almost as bad as the fingers on that spot. 

He jerks his hips forward, dick hitting his own abs.  The sound out of his throat is a wail and David’s big hand covers his mouth to stifle him.  David’s other hand finally wraps around his dick again, pulling it.  He feels like is useless seed is being wrenched from him, more painful than anything as he spends himself into the air. 

Christian’s panting and exhausted.  David still pounding into him, hands still clenched on his hips, pain in deep in the bones as bruises are laid over bruises.  The pain in his back is reawakening and he thinks he can feel the blood trickling down onto his ass. 

Finally David’s pressing into him deeply and groaning against Christian’s back, but it makes him actually feel sick.  He’s completely lost control of his own life and now here he is being used like the whore Jeffrey accused him of being.  He just didn’t want to see the servant die.  He just wanted to see the horses.  But this is all his fault for disobeying, for trying to push against his husband’s rules.

Christian coughs as David pulls out, feeling bile rise up his throat.  David’s fluids are leaking down his thigh, combining with Jeffrey’s and he feels used and dirty, bloody and covered in men’s cum.  He doesn’t need David’s fingers swiping through the fluid and then circling his now very pained hole as the taller man leans his weight on top of him. 

“God, that was good,” David whispers.  “Too bad I can’t stay.”

Christian shivers and feels only more pathetic because of it.  His skin feels cold as David moves away, more than cold, freezing.  It’s impossible to sleep and he simply hangs there, trembling and exposed, and hating himself.  David knew more things about his body than Christian himself does and now he feels less than a man, less than even a woman, a person. 

Jeffrey doesn’t even come for him the next morning.  He sends two servants to take him down and carry him inside to his bed.  The old midwife is waiting for him there. 

She tsks at him as she begins cleaning him up, but she respects his need for silence with his self-loathing.  He doesn’t want to talk about his obvious mistakes nor does he want to make conversation as she’s cleaning his wounds and spreading more salve on them.  He doesn’t have the energy or desire to even respond to the pain. 

He’s been a fool and paid a terrible price for it.  Why rage against this life when there’s no way he can get out of it?  Making life miserable for himself and Jeffrey is a child’s response.  He’s an adult and he has to accept this, accept who he is as an omega, a fact that he’s run away from his whole life.  His family is counting on him. 

He does whimper when she presses her finger inside his doubly sore hole, but she shushes him gently.  “There now, don’t fret.  This will help,” she says. 

He doesn’t try to escape her ministrations though his stomach roils at being entered again.  Jeffrey is one thing, the man is his husband, but for a stableboy, to just use his body for pleasure against his will…his mind doesn’t want to think on it longer. 

He lies there all day after she leaves him with soup that he doesn’t eat.  The maid brings him more that evening and Jeffrey doesn’t come for him that night.  Christian stays in his room a whole week, sitting up after a day and reading at his desk mostly, feeling shamed and self-pitying. 

But exactly one week later, Jeffrey enters his bedchamber as he’s washing his face, already wearing his nightshirt.  But Jeffrey doesn’t come in further, simply stands just inside the doorway and looks into Christian’s eyes as the younger man turns around swiftly. 

“You will come to dinner tomorrow night, and then I will visit you in your bed,” Jeffrey intones, emotionlessly.  “My parents have been asking about an heir.”

Christian nods, and keeps his head dipped respectfully, but Jeffrey leaves without a second glance. 

The next morning, Christian gets up readily, resigned to his new fate.  He eats the porridge that the maid brings to his room politely and then takes a full bath.  He can still feel the crinkle of scabs as he lets hot water sluice over his back, but he feels fine down between his thighs.  He dresses nicely like Jeffrey is always telling him to and stays in doors, not going near the stable.  He writes a letter to his family and reads a book in the window seat.  He feels useless.  He doesn’t know any of the female pursuits like playing the piano or needlepoint, but he’s not allowed to do the masculine things that he’s used to.  Still he writes to his family that everything is wonderful and that they are hoping for a baby. 

He is demure at dinner, asking after his husband’s hunt that day and no more.  And then he quickly retires to his room and undresses.  Lying there passive as Jeffrey climbs on top of him, the tension in his shoulders is the only thing giving away his fear and discomfort.  His fingers clench in the sheets near his face as his body is shoved up the bed with the force of his husband’s thrusts.  But it seems even Jeffrey doesn’t enjoy it as much when he’s passive. 

It doesn’t hurt as much since he began sticking his own fingers in there as the midwife showed him, but it makes his skin crawl.  He feels like Jeffrey can tell that he’s been used by some stable boy and that’s why Jeffrey is so disinterested now.  He’s ashamed. 

When Jeffrey finally crawls off, Christian just continues lying there with his face turned away, but Jeffrey isn’t quite finished tonight.  Two hands grab his hips and the surprise has Christian sucking in a frightened breath. 

“Get your hips up,” Jeffrey orders.  “And stay like this. My family is tired of waiting.”

Christian can’t nod and he doesn’t want to speak but Jeffrey doesn’t seem to need an answer.  For a moment, Christian thinks that Jeffrey is going to stay and watch him to make sure he holds the position with his ass up in the air, exposed and vulnerable.  But his husband only stays for a long moment and then leaves. 

He stays like that for an hour before settling his hips back down and trying to sleep.  The seed drips out some onto his balls, but he tries not to move too much and he doesn’t bathe until the morning. 

He gets up the next morning and is prepared to do it all again, but he clings to the only purpose he has left, a baby.  He eats his breakfast and then spends the morning searching through the books in the library in an attempt to find something to help him in the endeavor.  In the end, though, he only has rumors he once overheard from his mother. 

Cautiously, he heads into the kitchen, smiling shyly at the cook and maid who were talking before he interrupted. 

“Do you need something?” the dark haired cook asks him with a maternal smile. 

“May I have a glass of grapefruit juice?” he asks, afraid to look in their eyes and see their judgment of his behavior so far. 

They both smile knowingly, but the blonde maid moves to get him a glass.  Christian realizes then he’s never spoken to these women, he doesn’t even know their names.  They were expecting a woman, a wife, who would need a ladies’ maid and oversee the household and he must have been such a disappointment when he showed up, angry and belligerent and having no idea what to do with himself.

He takes the glass with a soft thank you, but he’s reluctant to leave them.  Slowly, he takes a sip. 

“I’ll be sure to get some extra grapefruits when I go back to the market,” the cook tells him, still looking at him like she’s sharing a secret.  “I also know a few other things that I can pick up,” she offers conspiratorially. 

Christian lowers his eyes and his glass to the wooden table, embarrassed by the turn in conversation, embarrassed at them knowing about his aberration, at them talking about how Jeffrey covers him at night, like a woman.  It’s embarrassing to talk about the parts of him that aren’t masculine.

“Yes, that would be…good,” he eventually politely responds and then picks the glass back up to occupy his mouth. 

As he drinks, he watches the maid take out some vegetables, washing them before placing them on a board for the brunette to cut. 

“Of course, we’ll get rid of all the mint,” the cook is stating as she begins her work.  “And…”

“Do you need help?” Christian interrupts. 

Both women pause, staring at him in surprise and confusion. 

“I-I mean, that I would like to…to help you, to learn,” he stutters out.  He knows that this is irregular and he knows that they’re both undoubtedly worrying about getting in trouble with the master, but he doesn’t know what else to do. 

The blonde is the first to smile, brightly and genuinely.  “Of course,” she offers.

He doesn’t help a lot, simply washes some vegetables at first, but it’s good to be with other people for the first time that he’s come here.  He learns their names, Gina the cook and Beth the exuberant maid and they talk about Jeffrey’s favorite meals.  It’s strange to see another side to his husband.  These women have worked in Jeffrey’s household for years. 

He makes certain that he is clean and dressed like Jeffrey wants long before his husband comes home.  All through dinner, he fights to keep the smile from his face.  He feels he has a secret, not just the cooking, but looking at his husband with new eyes.  The man still doesn’t talk to him much, but Christian watches Jeffrey intently, wanting to know what the other man enjoys, wanting to feel that spark of life within him, a life that will be Jeffrey’s.   

*************

It’s been three months, since Christian was punished and he’s still not pregnant.  Christian has settled into his life, he’s formed real friendships with the women servants, but he still needs a baby to be whole.  He _needs_ it.  Jeffrey visits him every night, filling him with seed, but he has felt nothing in his belly, no spark of life.  Gina and Beth have bought all the grapefruits they can get their hands on.  They’ve had him plant a rosemary bush, and made a charm of a quail’s heart for him that he clenches in his hand when Jeffrey spends inside him. 

They have one last piece of advice for him, but he’s not sure it’s something that he can accomplish.  Beth giggles too much to even tell him, but finally, Gina explains that he needs to spend his own seed after Jeffrey spills inside him, biting her lip as women do to speak of male bearers.  He blushes as well, to hear such words out of the maternal woman’s mouth, but he is resolved to try. 

When Jeffrey enters his room that night, Christian is kneeling on the bed with his ass in the air, thinking that it will help Jeffrey spill his seed deeper inside his body.  His husband seemingly approves, slapping his haunch lightly before grabbing onto his hips.  Sinking easily inside, Jeffrey doesn’t touch him more than necessary, doesn’t grab his hair or pin his wrists anymore.  Christian strangely misses it. 

His own cock is still limp after Jeffrey leaves, swinging between his thighs with every breath.  Slowly, he reaches underneath himself with his right hand, stroking along to the rhythm of his deepening breaths.  His cock hardens quickly under his touch, but he doesn’t get any closer to spilling himself.  No matter how hard he strokes, thoughts of the stable boy keep intruding, thoughts of how humiliated he felt with David’s hands all over him, how he was forced to take pleasure in his own violation.  Clenching his eyes tighter, he tries to picture Jeffrey instead, tries to imagine the feel of Jeffrey’s hands on him again. 

He imagines the Jeffrey of a few moments ago, but it doesn’t help.  Thinking of Jeffrey’s smile, the surprised one with the dimples, helps a bit and he works his hand faster, squeezing the shaft as his thoughts turn involuntarily to how it used to be with Jeffrey, when Jeffrey used to pound inside him, pulling his hair and growling out his pleasure.  Suddenly his seed spills over his fist and his belly clenches in pleasure.  He’s panting and sensitive in the aftermath and wondering what’s wrong with him.  Falling forward, he rests his forehead on the bed between his hands.  He’s trying to be a good spouse, but he fails at every turn. 

It becomes part of his new routine.  He keeps out of Jeffrey’s way.  He drinks the grapefruit juice and keeps the charm and doesn’t eat any mint and stays still and silent when Jeffrey comes to his bed.  Only afterward, _afterward_ , he imagines Jeffrey fierce and aggressive as his seed pumps over his own fist while Jeffrey’s fluid drips down his thigh. 

After another month though, he begins to wonder whether these thoughts in his head aren’t becoming a problem.  His nipples hurt, so much even his shirts bother him, just like after David chewed on them.  But maybe he’s just sick.  He’s so tired all the time, like he could just lie down and sleep the whole day away.  And he’s irritable, his mood swinging so that he’s even confused by himself.  One night at dinner, he’s biting his tongue on cutting remarks and the next he’s biting it to distract himself from the tears gathering in his eyes. 

He feels too poorly today to be of much use in the kitchen today, leaning against the counter with his aching head resting on his hand until Gina sets him on the couch with some grapefruit juice and a few cookies.  The cinnamon smell of the warm oatmeal cookies makes him want to retch and he nudges the plate to the very edge of the coffee table.  Slumping in a corner of the sofa, Christian’s back is hurting and he shifts as he reaches for his book.  But it’s hard to concentrate on reading when he can’t get comfortable, the ache sharp and spreading out into his hips.  He’s turning the page when suddenly his abdomen is cramping and he curls into himself in pain. 

His head pops up when Jeffrey suddenly comes into the room, surprising him in the middle of the day.  The older man runs a hand up the wood of the door frame casually and makes a show of looking around the room as if he’s surprised to find Christian there. 

“What are you reading?” Jeffrey asks, his voice a low cautious rumble. 

Clenching his jaw, Christian throws the book down onto the sofa and stands up, unable to bite back his temper this time as he snarls, “What does it matter?  Are you going to make a rule against books now?”

“Christian, stop this,” Jeffrey orders him, his voice a low warning as he takes one deliberate step forward. 

“No,” Christian hisses, taking a step closer to the other man.  “You can’t make me…”

He deserves the slap when it comes, but he isn’t expecting it and it knocks him to the floor.  It’s not the pain in his cheekbone that causes him to gasp though as suddenly another cramp seizes his belly.  Curling in on himself, he holds his belly and groans.

Jeffrey freezes with wide eyes staring down at him.  Christian doesn’t think he could ever imagine seeing Jeffrey look so stunned, and almost…frightened. 

“Are you…pregnant?” Jeffrey asks him in a breathless voice.

“Yes?  I t-think so,” Christian whispers back, feeling just as overwhelmed. 

Jeffrey wipes a hand over his mouth and down his neck.  And then he just walks away, leaving Christian on the floor staring after him.  He can see Beth peeping around the door frame, looking down at him with a horrified expression, but his pride can’t accept her pity.  He scrambles up and runs back to his room, tears already streaming down his face. 

He cries himself to sleep and Jeffrey never comes to him.  He thought that Jeffrey would be proud, or satisfied at least.  He thought that he would feel different, whole, complete, but there’s nothing different.  He’s still a failure. 

The next morning the midwife is visiting him in his bed to confirm the pregnancy.  Christian answers her questions with as few words as possible, nodding feebly at all her advice for his activity and diet.  She always sees him at his worst moments.  Beth hovers around the doorway, but Christian sends her away when the midwife leaves. 

Alone, he forces himself to get up, refusing to fall back into self-pity, doing nothing all day and pestering his husband, making things miserable for everyone.  Resolutely, he gets dressed and goes back out into the sitting area, picking up the book that he tossed aside the day only the day before. 

He’s not expecting to see Jeffrey cautiously entering the room and Christian hurries to stand, wanting to make amends, willing to do whatever it takes, but suddenly he’s lightheaded.  Vision blurring, he knows that he’s falling but he can’t right himself when suddenly he’s caught. 

He can feel the heat of another’s body against him, Jeffrey’s body.  With a gasp, his head drops back, but he’s supported.  Then he’s sitting, but the warmth and pressure against his side doesn’t go away.  Slowly, he blinks open his eyes and manages to focus on Jeffrey’s handsome face above him. 

A large hand cups his face as Jeffrey asks, “Are you alright?”

Christian starts to nod, but it makes his head spin and he clenches his eyes shut against the onslaught as the rough hand moves against his face.

“Have you eaten?” Jeffrey asks in the absence of his answer.  And then he’s nodding over to Beth hovering in the doorway with a cup of tea in her hands.   Jeffrey takes the cup and murmurs, “You need to take care of yourself.”

Christian blinks up at him in confusion.  “You know the midwife came.  She confirmed the pregnancy.”

Jeffrey nods seriously at him, but still there isn’t any happiness.  Christian’s hand goes to his belly unconsciously and dark eyes follow the motion intently.   

“Have some tea,” Jeffrey deflects giving him the teacup before looking away, nodding at Beth as she sets down a plate with a raisin scone on it. 

With lashes lowered coyly, Christian sips the tea but shakes his head when Jeffrey offers him the plate.  The warmth of the cup soaks into his palms and he’s beginning to feel sleepy when Jeffrey is suddenly holding a piece of the scone to his lips. 

“You need to eat something,” Jeffrey entices him. 

Obediently, Christian opens his mouth, allowing long fingers to press the food onto his tongue.  He chews slowly but Jeffrey is patient, holding up the next bite almost as soon as he swallows.  His lips turn up in a smirk even as he tries to chew, amused by his husband’s attentiveness, and Jeffrey returns it, dimples deepening in that mischievous way that he has. 

When he’s finished his scone and tea, he can feel his eyelids heavy with sleep.  There’s a pat on his shoulder suddenly and Christian realizes that he had almost fallen asleep on top of Jeffrey. 

“Perhaps you should retire to your room for a nap,” the older man suggests, already lifting him by his elbow to stand. 

Christian doesn’t say anything as he’s led back to his bed. 

***********

Over the next week, Jeffrey spends more time at home, with Christian, though he seems never to mention the pregnancy directly.  At first, it seems just to check up on Christian, asking how he feels that day, making sure he’s eaten something.  Today though, just when Christian is getting restless, Jeffrey invites him out for a walk. 

The fresh air feels amazing and he can’t help tilting his face up into the sunlight.  Until he hears Jeffrey’s low chuckle and then there’s a cautious touch to his back. 

“The sunlight agrees with you,” Jeffrey offers, dimples appearing in his rough cheeks. 

Christian smiles back.  “Yes,” he agrees before licking his lips and trying to think of a way to start a conversation.  “How is your new hunting dog?”

Jeffrey is hesitant at first, but he opens up when Christian offers carefully worded advice on training the dog.  By the time that they are returning to the house, they’re enthusiastically talking about at all the things that they have in common by both being male. 

It’s confusing to straddle the line between spouses and male friends, though.  Slowly, Jeffrey draws his hand through the chestnut hair near Christian’s face, pushing it back and making Christian smile, his cheeks heating at the touch.  He has to tamp down on a sudden desire to kiss the older man, not wanting to overstep his bounds or treat Jeffrey as he would a woman. 

They separate to dress, but the easy conversation continues during dinner.  Christian feels good, better than he has in a while and he eats a full plate of food.  He can’t help not wanting the night to end as they separate to their bedrooms.  Jeffrey hasn’t been to visit his bedchamber since the pregnancy, but tonight his mind circles around thinking about it.  Those thoughts creep into his head again, thoughts about Jeffrey aggressively taking him.  His insides ache, deep between his legs and so do his breasts.  Breathing heavily, he lifts a hand hesitantly, rubbing his palm over his tit through the rough nightshirt. 

Slowly, he pulls off his nightshirt and sits against the headboard.  He takes a little of the salve in his fingers and probes at his hole.  His fingers fit in more easily than they ever have before.  It’s awkward at this angle, but he perseveres, keeping his fingers inside as he begins to tug at his cock with his other hand. 

He’s not at all expecting for Jeffrey to enter his room this late and he simply doesn’t have time to take his fingers out.  He freezes in embarrassment.  Jeffrey is still staring when Christian comes to his senses though and pulls his fingers out, grabbing his nightshirt and dragging over his head.  Not that it does a thing to hide his still hard dick tenting the material though. 

“I didn’t think…” Jeffrey stutters out.  But then he stops and changes direction.  “Is it safe?”

Christian swallows, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt where it lays on his thighs.  “It is,” he says hesitantly, not knowing if his husband is upset.  “The midwife said that it was possible all during pregnancy if I feel well enough for it.”

“I did not expect you to desire it,” Jeffrey states more deliberately, taking a step towards the bed. 

Christian huffs out a surprised noise and then swallows nervously, his hands hovering over his shirt, wondering whether to take it off or not and feeling suddenly shy at showing his persistent erection.  He can’t bring himself to just turn away and lie down like he normally does.    

He’s never actually looked at Jeffrey naked and his hands clench reflexively on the cotton material as he watches the other man remove his coat and then unbutton his vest.  Jeffrey looks up at him while pulling the ends of his shirttail out of his pants, not seeming bashful or angry about being observed.  In fact, the edges of Jeffrey’s lips turn up in the barest of a smile and then he’s pulling the white shirt off of his shoulders.  Christian is surprised how his mouth goes dry at the wide set of the man, the muscles in his arms, dark dusting of hair on his chest, leading down his belly to the edge of his pants.  When the pants are dropped, Christian’s satisfied to see that his husband is already hard, already excited to be with him. 

Finally, Christian turns away as Jeffrey bends to see to his shoes.  He pulls his nightshirt off and lies down on his side, his hand resting on his belly which is still flat under his hand.  There’s a dip of the bed and he looks up into Jeffrey’s face and asks, “Perhaps, like this?”

Christian pulls his top leg towards his chest, baring himself to the other man.  He’s surprised when Jeffrey’s fingers quest gently over the slick there and can’t control the jerk of his hips.  Suddenly panting in uncontrolled desire, he grabs his cock with one hand between his legs and presses his face into the mattress in embarrassment. 

“Do you need more of this slick?” Jeffrey asks him, fingers still probing at his already loosened rim. 

Christian has a hard time trying to get words out, but he clenches his eyes and mutters, “I-I can.  It’s over by the headboard.”

Jeffrey’s fingers disappear for a moment and then the heavy weight is repositioning and there’s the brush of Jeffrey’s skin all along his back this time.  He can feel the hot gust of breath on the back of his neck when the older man presses inside and he revels in finally feeling Jeffrey’s passion again. 

Jeffrey practically curls around him trying to get in deeper, one hand pulling Christian’s hips down.  The other arm sneaks underneath Christian’s neck and suddenly their bodies are pressed together back to front.  He can feel the other man’s heat, soft skin, scratch of coarse hair with every short, sharp thrust, Jeffrey’s cock never fully withdrawing. 

It feels different, like this, the closeness somehow more overwhelming than the earlier violence.  He’s hard and wanting it and the angle of Jeffrey’s cock pressing inside is different.  Christian’s body jumps and he lets out an animalistic wail as he feels a burst of white pleasure on that thrust.  It’s that spot, that pleasure that David showed him, but it’s not painful like it was.  It’s not painful because Jeffrey doesn’t torture him but presses in slow and deliberate against that spot and pulling away. 

It feels so good that Christian doesn’t even know what he’s doing, his hands are clutching at Jeffrey’s arms across his hip and shoulder.  The sounds he’s making are unrelenting and he bites down unconsciously only realizing that it is Jeffrey’s forearm when there’s a growl in his ear.  But Jeffrey only snaps his hips harder, forcing muffled whining sounds from Christian’s throat. 

“Unh,” Christian cries out, slobbering on Jeffrey’s arm.  “It feels…” 

He can’t finish the sentence as he jerkily tries to move his other hand on his dick.  But it feels strange to touch himself while Jeffrey is inside him, as if Jeffrey’s pleasure should be enough.  With effort, he moves his hand away, up to his chest where he starts to pinch his nipples. 

Jeffrey’s mouth is wet on the side of his neck when he whispers, “You like that?  God, you do.  Harder?”  His fingers cover Christian’s own, pushing them away so he can take over.  Christian’s stomach tenses in anxiety but Jeffrey’s touch only makes him want to arch and groan. 

“I can’t believe how eager you are for this…me pulling at your breasts, shoving inside you, so…deep,” Jeffrey’s voice stutters with each hard thrust.  “Show me,” he orders.  “Show me how much,” he repeats as Christian’s hand returns to his own dick.  “Look at you, loving me so deep…inside you.”

Christian’s surprised when he comes only a moment later, his orgasm prolonged and devastating in a way that he’s never experienced before.  He’s still running his slick fist over his cock as Jeffrey groans deep and harsh in his ear.  It’s like nothing that he’s ever felt before, so different than every other time that Jeffrey has come to his bed.

Jeffrey leans his forehead on the back of Christian’s neck, slowly nuzzling him as the older man catches his breath.   Automatically, Christian looks over his shoulder and suddenly their faces are very close together, dark eyes like pools that he could simply fall into.  Christian’s still staring when Jeffrey’s lips are on his, forcing his mouth open, tongue licking inside with lazy dominance.  Jeffrey takes control of his mouth like Christian used to with the women he slept with.  It doesn’t last long before they have to break away to breathe, but Christian likes it.  He likes the heat of the other man against him, sweaty and spent. 

It can’t last.  Far too soon, Jeffrey moves away towards his clothes and Christian sits up as well, going over to his wash basin to wash off his hands.  He’s now too embarrassed by his wanton behavior to look at his husband at all.  He stares down at the now cloudy water until he hears his husband call his name. 

“Christian,” Jeffrey calls out to him.  When Christian turns around, the man is half dressed, his vest and coat hung over his arm, his shirttails out, looking sexier than when fully dressed.  “Would it please you if I came back tomorrow night?” he asks. 

Christian can’t help the smile that breaks out over his lips and he has to duck his face some in embarrassment.  “Yes, _husband_ ,” Christian says deliberately, like an endearment, the tie that binds.  His hands go to his stomach and he notices that Jeffrey’s eyes are warm as they follow.

**************** 

The next day is filled with anticipation.  It’s like some kind of honeymoon, Christian thinks as he rubs his belly and leaves the kitchen to get cleaned up.  He’s in the study, rearranging everything when Jeffrey walks in. 

The smile spreads across his face like the sun across the horizon and he drifts across the space to get closer.  Fiddling idly with the papers in his hands, he asks, “Alright today?”

Jeffrey steps close, offering him a plate of Gina’s muffins, but the smell hits Christian like a blow.  Slapping a hand over his mouth, Christian heaves and bends forward.  Heaving again, he can’t hold it in again, but there’s suddenly a basin in front of his face and a hand on his waist, helping him to kneel on the floor.  Christian collapses forward, just barely managing to catch his weight on his hands unable to stop as tears leak from the corners of his eyes.  He’s barely aware of his hair being gathered away from his face, tied back in a ribbon. 

Exhausted, he finally stops and leans back on his heels, still supported by the other man’s arm.  Covering his mouth, he turns his face away in embarrassment while Jeffrey gives the basin over to Beth to dispose of.  But Jeffrey doesn’t shy away from him and instead presses his a kiss into the hair on the back of Christian’s head in comfort before helping the younger man stand. 

“Come, let us get you to bed,” Jeffrey murmurs, “And I will let you rest alone tonight.”

“No,” Christian objects, curling his hand in Jeffrey’s sleeve even as the older man tries to leave him in the bed.  “I’ll rest and be better by tonight.  Come,” he implores. 

Jeffrey laughs at him, but nods and tells him to sleep.  But Christian’s prediction is correct.  The nap takes care of his queasy stomach and he’s hungry at dinner. 

When Jeffrey comes to him that night, Christian is already tenting his nightshirt as he sits on the edge of his bed.  Jeffrey sees immediately, “Have you touched yourself tonight?”

“No,” Christian says, embarrassed at how much he wants this.  It’s unseemly.  Biting his lips, he begins to duck his face away, but then Jeffrey’s hand is on his cheek.  Slowly, Christian turns his face into the hand so his lips are over the man’s palm. 

With eyes closed, he gently mouths over the rough flesh until Jeffrey pulls him away, both hands on his face pulling him into a kiss.  An agile tongue teases over his upper lip before pulling away as Jeffrey’s weight dips the mattress.  Christian has barely opened his eyes when big hands are pulling at him and Jeffrey’s voice is rumbling, “Come here.”

Sucking in a breath, Christian moves to straddle the other man, feeling ridiculous and small next to his husband.  Jeffrey’s come up to rest on his pecs, rubbing them before his fingers are circling his areolas through his thin nightshirt. 

“This feels good?” Jeffrey asks, like he’s not sure he can trust his memories of the night previous. 

“Yes,” Christian answers, voice heavy and thick with lust. 

Jeffrey keeps the touch soft at first, teasing them both before slowly pulling open the tie at the neck of his shirt, opening it wider to reach skin.  His touch is rougher then, pinching his dark nipples, pulling them until Christian is moaning out loud, high and strained.

Jeffrey’s fingers stop then and he looks up to his husband’s face in unspoken question, but he seems resolved at what he sees there.  Beginning again, Jeffrey’s hands drop to run up his thighs, teasing the edges of his nightshirt as Christian bites his lip and shivers.  Slowly, the fabric is pushed up, revealing more and more of his pale thighs.  The touch drifts up, under the shirt to grip at the edges of his hipbones, thumbs rubbing a circle on skin that feels sensitive. 

Finally, one hand drifts down, between his thighs and Christian gasps, head thrown back as he arches up, moving away from the touch involuntarily, but the hand follows him.  It rubs against the most sensitive part of him, sparking a need to be filled, for more, for a harder touch. 

He doesn’t recognize how much noise he’s making until Jeffrey is grabbing the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss that’s more of just biting at his lips.  Christian sucks in a breath at the spark of pain that only makes him more desperate when Jeffrey is pulling his hair again and dumping him off onto the bed.  Insistent hands push at him, turn him around and push his torso down towards the bed. 

“Where is that slick?” Jeffrey demands, his voice now breathless. 

It’s amazing how much easier this is when Christian’s hard and wanting.  Jeffrey’s fingers slide in so easily that they both groan.  Christian feels like some kind of puppet as he writhes on Jeffrey’s fingers that swipe immediately over that special spot inside.  A constant whining noise escapes him as his fingers clench in the sheets reflexively.

“There is something…inside you,” Jeffrey murmurs almost to himself, brushing the spot again and watching as Christian’s body arches, muscles tense.  “I had no idea that it could be like this.”

Christian has fallen onto his belly, but his toes strive for purchase as his hips lift, pressing back against Jeffrey’s hand urgently.  He’s surprised when a hand wraps around his throat, but instead of fear, a moan tumbles out of his mouth.  The grip tightens in response and then pulls him upright on his knees. 

The fingers shift inside him as his upper body is lifted, pressing harder on that sweet spot and Christian cries out as if in agony.  Jeffrey milks his pleasure mercilessly and Christian goes limp, his body still arched, held up only by the fingers around his throat that tighten enough to cut off his moaning.  With nothing to hold onto, Christian’s fingers grasp at Jeffrey’s wrist though he doesn’t try to pull the hand off. 

“God, you love this,” Jeffrey growls in his ear just before releasing his grip.  Christian falls back to the mattress on his hands, sinking to his elbows as Jeffrey’s knees knock his legs further apart.  “You like it rough, like it to hurt.”

Jeffrey’s hand slips up his sweaty back to push him down onto the bed and then that hand slips into Christian’s long hair, getting a good grip before his cock pushes in, forcing Christian’s body to yield.  It’s Jeffrey who’s loud now, moaning and groaning in abandon with each punishing thrust.  Jeffrey’s hands are relentless, letting go of Christian’s hair to push on his back, keeping the younger man down and pliant.   

Christian wants that passion and he reaches one hand back to grip Jeffrey’s hip as he lifts his ass, rocking back into the thrusts.  Tentatively, Jeffrey’s other hand strokes underneath him, gently caressing the curve of Christian’s belly and then down further to his cock.  It’s the first time that Jeffrey has touched his cock and Christian bucks automatically.  Jeffrey’s leaning over him, moaning into his hair, sweaty skin brushing Christian’s back as he settles into a rhythm, rolling his hips back into the punching thrusts and then down into Jeffrey’s tightened fist.  He feels overcome, instinctive like an animal and filled by pleasure in a way he’s never known before, before Jeffrey. 

Jeffrey finishes first, breathing out over Christian’s back.  Desperately, Christian reaches between his thighs, roughly fisting the head of his cock until there’s a heavy weight falling on him, pulling him down.  Jeffrey arranges them down on their sides, one arm tight across his chest as Jeffrey’s hand joins his on his cock.  Jeffrey is still panting in his ear and biting down harder on his earlobe, jawline, and neck while Christian shudders and whines. 

When he’s spent, Jeffrey curls him closer and turns his face to kiss his lax mouth again.  They lay there a while, catching their breath, sweat cooling on their skin.  It takes a while for Christian to notice that Jeffrey’s hand has settled on Christian’s lower belly, softly stroking the skin.  He has to bite his lip at the realization, unsure whether the older man knows.  He’s almost asleep when Jeffrey kisses his forehead for the last time and rises to go.  Christian understands even as he lies there unmoving, unwilling to watch his husband leave.  It’s unseemly for them to spend the night in the same bed, but still it rankles. 

*************

Even without sleeping in the bed together, Christian is given more affection than he ever expected of this arrangement.  They grow closer every day and his husband visits his bed every night, laying there for long moments afterward, breathing onto his temple and stroking over the developing curves of his body.  Though Jeffrey resumes hunting, they spend many of their days together, talking together and taking walks.  And even when Jeffrey is not there, Christian is not miserable but helps and laughs with the women servants and learns of Jeffrey’s past. 

Christian grows bigger every day until he’s uncomfortable and huge.  Jeffrey has to help him out of chairs, force him to go for walks.  They have experimented with different positions at night, and Christian has tried to sustain their passion, but nothing seems able to excite Christian anymore and he has simply been gritting his teeth against Jeffrey’s penetration for some nights. 

Tonight he can’t pretend and he is nervous as he waits, sitting on the bed in his nightshirt, his knees tucked under him and his arms cradling his belly.  Scared and confused, he just wants to please Jeffrey but his stomach roils at the thought.  Jeffrey notices his posture immediately upon entering. 

“Are you alright?” Jeffrey asks, sitting on the bed with his clothes still on. 

Christian bites his lip and looks away to the side and then down at his hands rubbing his giant belly.  “I don’t feel…I don’t feel good,” he explains. 

Jeffrey’s hands run up his forearms and up to cradle his face.  “My husband,” he entreats.  “May I still lie with you?  I will not attempt anything more.”

Christian sniffles involuntarily and then nods quickly, lying down on his side stiffly and unsure what to expect.  He peeks over his shoulder to see Jeffrey stripping down to just his undergarments, but quickly turns his face back before Jeffrey slides in behind him.  One of Jeffrey’s arms winds its familiar way underneath his neck, cradling his head and the other joins Christian’s own on his belly. 

It’s warm as Jeffrey pulls the quilt over their entwined bodies and slowly Christian relaxes, tension leaving his taxed muscles.  He’s just getting comfortable when he feels a sharp kick in his abdomen and he grunts.    

Jeffrey’s hand moves over the spot where the baby is kicking and Christian can feel the other man’s whiskered lips curving into a smile.  “Whoa there, little one.  You’re already so strong,” Jeffrey murmurs and Christian can’t help but smile at the affection in the other man’s voice. 

“No wonder you’re tired,” Jeffrey speaks to his husband this time and Christian stretches and chuckles, covering the man’s hand with his own. 

The kicking stops with the gentle pressure of their hands and Christian is just starting to fall asleep when Jeffrey speaks again.  “I confess I didn’t expect this,” Jeffrey whispers so softly that Christian almost thinks he’s not meant to hear.  “I didn’t expect any of this.”

Christian stays quiet and eventually falls asleep with Jeffrey still caressing him, but he’s more surprised to wake up still in Jeffrey’s arms.  Beth is surprised too when she finds them and she ducks out of the room with a hand hiding her giggling mouth.  Despite her reaction, Jeffrey makes it a habit to wake in Christian’s room.  And he never again mentions how improper it is. 

************

_Jeffrey’s Point of View_

He can’t help but notice how restless the younger man has been.  He’s been watching Christian for almost a week, knowing that his husband’s confinement is fast approaching.  The pregnant man’s behavior is understandable in light of his condition, but less clear are the motivations for Jeffrey’s own behavior.  In the last months, his eyes, and hands, have often been drawn to the other man, but now he’s barely been able to let Christian leave his sight.  He’s watched while Christian rearranged the nursery, and then the bedroom, and Christian even made an attempt on the kitchen before Gina chased him out.  They have not coupled in more than month, but still they have slept in the same bed, even this last week when Christian hasn’t slept at all.  Jeffrey spent the nights trying to soothe a husband who paced the floors instead and grimaced while rubbing his belly.

Tonight finally, the contractions have started and they’ve been up for hours.  The midwife was called immediately, but there is nothing to do but wait.  Jeffrey growled and refused to leave his husband’s side as is customary.   

He places another blanket on the nest of pillows he’s made on the bed, another failed attempt to get Christian to rest.  Sighing, he turns to watch the other man pace at the end of the bed and then pounces, catching his husband by the hips and holding him still.  Slowly, Jeffrey shifts his hands so his thumbs can rub the tense muscles of Christian’s lower back.  Sucking in a breath, Christian puts his hands on the bed and leans forward, allowing Jeffrey’s hands more room to maneuver. 

He smiles at the groans of pleasure that Christian makes when he hears the door open.  The younger man doesn’t notice but Jeffrey looks back to see Beth pouring hot water in the bathtub like he asked.  He nods at her and she smiles as he leaves.   

Gently, he pulls Christian’s hips away from the bed and leads them towards the bath.  He’s already pulling off Christian’s sweat-damp nightshirt when he speaks. 

“Get in.  It’ll relax your muscles,” Jeffrey says, holding Christian steady by the hips, helping him into the hot water. 

Christian smiles softly as he sits, the hot water covering his chest, steam rising around his face and bringing back a rosy glow.  Jeffrey can’t help staring as the blue eyes close and the beloved face loses all hint of tension.  Christian looks beautiful and it’s such a familiar thought that it isn’t even strange anymore.  More strange is how protective Jeffrey feels for the younger man with the curve of his belly bobbing at the surface of the water.  His fierce husband, he thinks and smiles, yet curiously vulnerable. 

Though, Jeffrey has a hard time reconciling this protectiveness with what he does to Christian at night as the younger man begs him for more, rougher, harder.  Heat floods his own face though he does not have the excuse of the steam.  But then Christian blinks up at him with warm eyes and beckons him in with a hand.

“Please,” Christian implores simply. 

Unable to deny him, Jeffrey is already pulling off his shirt, noting how unabashedly Christian watches him undress.  Jeffrey always assumed that he would dote on his wife, giving her any luxuries that she desired, but he never thought that it would be like this.  He never considered that he would so desire his spouse’s body, a man’s body, that their coupling would be as exciting as his youthful indiscretions instead of a duty. 

The water sloshes as he climbs in and Christian immediately curls close, tucking himself into Jeffrey’s side as the older man leans back against the tub.  Jeffrey cradles him, Christian’s belly pressing into his torso and Christian’s cheek on his chest.  Relaxing, his hands skim over his husband’s back and down the arm that crosses his chest. 

For almost thirty minutes, they finally manage to rest, comfortable in the heat of the water and each other’s arms.  Until another contraction has Christian jerking forward, disturbing the water around them. 

Jeffrey’s arms tighten around the other man, trying to hold him still, to comfort, but Christian is already moving, sitting up and then standing, restless again.  Jeffrey hastens after, just in time to help his husband out.  Christian’s already walking away as he grabs a towel, running it over his husband’s body briefly.  Reaching out, Christian’s fingers turn white where they grip the wooden shelf of his dresser before recovering enough to pull out another nightshirt. 

Jeffrey rushes to dry himself and pull on his pants, leaving them half open before he’s grabbing at the other man again.  This time, he ushers Christian towards the bed, pushing him resolutely to sit on the mattress. 

“Relax,” Jeffrey coos at the other man.  “Just try to rest,” he says, holding the other man’s wrists and rubbing them gently. 

The man still refuses to follow directions, fidgeting and pulling his hands from Jeffrey’s grip as he reaches down to shift his weight, breathing loudly like he can’t get a full breath.  Christian is getting up to his knees when he suddenly cries out, something that hasn’t happened until now.  Jeffrey starts yelling immediately, for Beth, for his manservant, for the midwife. 

There’s the sound of running outside the door, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the younger man as he places one knee on the bed, easing his weight nearer to the other man.  At the weight, Christian looks up at him with blue eyes bright with pain, almost pleading with him.  Jeffrey grabs at the smaller man’s hand, trying to be comforting.  Christian is sweating again, slicking his forehead and dampening his hair so that it forms tendrils around his face.  He’s biting his lip and rubbing hard on his distended belly as he continues maneuvering up on his knees. 

Jeffrey reaches for the nearby cup of water and gets fully onto the bed, cupping the back of the other man’s neck and pouring water down his throat.  The white nightshirt that Christian is wearing is getting damp and clear in places, his dark nipples showing through. 

“Jeffrey,” Christian pants out, squeezing his hand to get his attention, as if all of Jeffrey’s attention isn’t taken up with the other man all of the time now.  “The midwife…s-she says that pulling my breasts will speed t-the birth,” he sputters. 

Wasting no time, Christian attempts to pull the strings at his neck with shaking hands, but Jeffrey calmly takes over, gently untying the closure until the neck falls open and stretching it open further until he can pull it down enough to expose one swollen nipple. 

He gently tugs at the nub with his fingers, watching Christian’s eyes go wide and a pink tongue slips out to wet his bottom lip.  Jeffrey smirks at the sight.  In recent months, he’s also heard that the baby comes out much how the baby got in.  Slowly, he lowers his head, licking his flattened tongue over the puffy nub.  Hands cling to his shoulders and Christian’s breath stutters out.  Taking the nipple into his mouth, Jeffrey sucks while his other hand moves to the other nipple, touching it through the damp cloth.  Jeffrey’s other hand joins Christian in rubbing over the curve of his belly. 

Letting the damp nipple slip from his lips, Jeffrey tilts his chin up to take Christian’s lips in a kiss.  His husband is heaving, somewhere between agony and ecstasy until another contraction has him tensing again.  The birth seems to be progressing well as the contractions get closer together, but Christian is already tired as he slumps, trusting Jeffrey to catch him. 

The midwife enters then, trailing both women servants as Jeffrey is helping Christian finally lie down.  Both women servants fly into action, flitting around their bedroom with towels and bowls of water and cups of herbal tea as the light of sunrise creeping around the curtains.  Jeffrey’s eyes are drawn back to Christian who is visibly biting the inside of his cheeks to keep in the sounds of his increasing distress as he watches the activity around them.  Not knowing what to do, Jeffrey simply sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his hands over Christian’s muscled arms. 

Christian’s head seems to loll on his neck and he rolls his face on the pillow as he hisses out a pained breath, all the noise that he will allow himself.  That’s when the midwife gives Jeffrey a too soft smile and asks him to leave the room as she settles at the end of the bed, already pushing apart Christian’s knees. 

It feels wrong to leave when his husband is in such pain.  But he also hates being here useless, unable to give any comfort.  He squeezes Christian’s hand, tries to catch those brilliantly blue eyes, but the younger man’s eyes are clenched in another wave of pain. 

He can go no further than the door at first, standing outside their bedroom worrying a thumbnail and his other arm hugging his middle.  But it isn’t long before he begins to hear Christian whimpering through the door, the sound rising into a wailing, mournful sound.  Jeffrey has to move away then, at least as far as the living room where he pours himself a glass of whiskey, desperate for anything to take away his own pain.  His hand is shaking, he notices objectively. 

Hours pass, where he only occasionally sees Beth scurry past the doorway with bowls from where he sits slumped across the loveseat, the long empty glass hanging from his fingertips.  But something must be wrong.  It’s almost nighttime again and all Jeffrey can think about is how Christian refused to sleep last night when the screams reach him.  Jeffrey drops the glass, indifferent to it shattering on the floor as he jumps to his feet.  Christian didn’t make that sound of agony even when whipped.  Fear freezes him stock still as he acknowledges the possibility of losing them both, the baby and…and Christian.  It’s like a physical pain in his chest and he can’t breathe.

He’s startled into movement again when the screaming rises in fervor and he rushes back towards their bedroom.  All he’s driven by is the need to be there if Christian is to breathe his last.  But he’s still stumbling through the hallway when there is sudden silence.  There’s only the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears as he stands outside the door once again and then…then a baby’s cry breaks the silence.  Dropping his face in his hands, Jeffrey stumbles a few steps backwards, laughing and crying both. 

The maid servant, Beth comes out a moment later holding the tiny infant swaddled in blankets.  He rushes towards her, placing a happy tearful kiss on the tiny forehead. 

“How’s Christian?” he asks, voice thick as he brushes his tears off the child with his thumb. 

Her face drops then and he knows the answer.  Pushing past her, he throws open the door but the sight within stops him in his tracks again.  Christian is again propped up on the pillows, but his nightshirt is drenched in red where it is stretched over his raised knees, hiding the midwife who seems to be elbow deep inside the young man. 

There’s so much blood.  It covers Christian’s uncovered calves and the midwife’s dress and the towels that are bunched up around Christian’s hips.  Only Christian’s face is bloodless and white, and lax in unconsciousness. 

Jeffrey is immediately by his husband’s bedside, trying to be mindful of the midwife’s efforts as he cradles Christian’s head to his chest.  “M-my love,” he says, using the endearment for the first time as the loss of his husband stares him in the face.  “Please, _please_ , my love.”

He can only beg and support the other man’s limp neck, stroking now soaked hair.  Christian doesn’t wake, but his eyelashes flutter as if responding to his husband’s presence.  Slowly, Jeffrey realizes that the midwife is speaking to him, her strained tone finally breaking through to him. 

“He needs to deliver the afterbirth,” she tells him, as if he understands the importance as he gazes down at his husband’s face.  “He’s losing too much blood.”

That Jeffrey understands.  The words have barely left her mouth when Christian is coming awake with a scream as his eyes fly open.  Jeffrey holds on tightly as Christian’s whole body clenches, trying to give strength to the exhausted body of his husband who pushes and writhes like he’s being torn apart. 

And then just as suddenly Christian falls completely limp again.  Horrified, Jeffrey jostles the other man, desperately trying to wake him up, but Christian’s eyes stay stubbornly closed. 

“Sssh,” the midwife quiets him.  “Let him rest.  The afterbirth is delivered and the bleeding stopped with it.  Hopefully he will recover with rest, and water.”

Christian’s head flops back, exposing his throat when Jeffrey lays him down on the pillows again, gently brushing stray strands of dark hair away from his face.  Christian is breathing too quickly, shallow and audible, but there is nothing to be done for it.  He gets lost staring at the face of the man that he never expected to love. 

He’s surprised to feel a tear escape, trailing down his cheek into his beard when he notices the midwife is cleaning Christian up with towels and warm water. 

Jeffrey picks up a towel, setting to cleaning the sweat from Christian’s face and chest, swiping the cloth down each arm.  Together, they carefully strip off Christian’s soaked nightshirt and then simply cover up his naked body with clean sheets.  Jeffrey is fussing with the blankets, wanting to warm up his husband’s cold skin when the silence of their work is interrupted by a baby’s cry. 

“She’s hungry,” Beth says, apologetically. 

It’s a she, Jeffrey thinks and smiles.  But he doesn’t know what to do for her. 

“It will weaken him further,” the midwife cautions. 

He knows what his husband would choose, but he needs Christian to live through this.  He covers his mouth with one hand, too terrified to speak before finally scrubbing a hand through his beard.

“Will it be too much?” he asks the midwife.  “Will he survive?”

He appreciates that she takes the time to think about it.  “He is strong,” she says finally.  “I believe that he will survive this.”

She nods at him to take the baby while she steps away to draw back the covers.  He hesitantly places the baby on Christian’s chest, skin to skin and tries to guide the baby’s grasping mouth to a puffy nipple.  He looks up at the woman for advice, but after a few seconds the little girl settles in. 

Christian’s slack face grimaces at first, but then it settles into something like satisfaction.  Jeffrey can’t help getting in the bed too, one hand holding the baby in place and giving his warmth to Christian’s cold skin. 

Slowly, Christian flutters open eyelashes already clumped with tears.  His blue eyes track immediately to the infant at his breast and more tears begin to fall freely, running down his cheeks.  Jeffrey curls closer and wipes them away with his free hand.  He’s surprised when those blue eyes lift to look at him so full of emotions that they seem to spill out like the tears, love and relief and wonder.  Jeffrey has never felt more pleased than in this moment and he presses kiss after kiss to the side of Christian’s wet face, his own tears falling while Christian makes little hitching noises as he cries. 

“Shh, my love,” Jeffrey whispers.  “My two loves.”

*****************

Jeffrey comes back early from the hunt and wanders out in the field where he can see his husband sitting under a tree.  As he gets closer, Christian stands, leading their little girl towards him with both hands, her stumbling steps adorable to him.  Christian looks radiant in the bright sunshine, smiling back at him. 

Whenever they bicker or Jeffrey wishes for a more traditional wife, he remembers how Christian looked after their daughter’s birth, cold and bloodless and weak.  He remembers his attempts to nurse Christian back to health, to keep Christian from doing too much for their daughter besides nursing. 

Now he’s wondering whether the memory has faded enough to try for another baby again.  They’ve been using the rhythm method that the midwife taught them since the birth, as well as exploring _other_ mutually satisfying activities in the bedroom. 

Leaning down, he swings his little girl up into the air, his whiskers on her soft face making her giggle before he settles her on his hip.  Then he tucks Christian into his side, feeling complete holding both of his loves. 

He turns his face to kiss his husband’s temple, both of Christian’s arms wrapped around his middle.  “I was thinking today about another baby,” he whispers. 

Christian is smiling as he tilts his face up for Jeffrey to kiss his plush lips.  “I was thinking the same,” the younger man murmurs, bringing Jeffery’s hand down to his lower belly. 

Jeffrey laughs in pure happiness. 

 

 


End file.
